Between Two Normals
by boltandthunder
Summary: Ginny has trouble returning to life after the events of the war; Harry helps her get there. Rating for reference to character death. EDITED 3/19/11


**Disclaimer: The characters belong to JKR. I just get to play with them for a while.**

**Author's Note: So this is my first fanfiction! Yay! I originally started this with the intention of writing something extremely fluffy, but Ginny had something else in mind. I have to say, I'm satisfied with the direction it took, but would like your feedback, especially since this is my first experience doing this. Thanks! - BAT**

Ginny toed off her heels, propped her feet up onto the table in front of her, and closed her eyes, burrowing into the cushions of the old couch on the back porch of the Burrow. She absentmindedly traced the worn stripes of the faded fabric with her hands and sighed. This couch had been on the porch for as long as she remembered. It had served as a castle for Sir Ron and Lady Ginny to bravely storm, saving their poor stuffed animals from Charlie the Ferocious Dragon. It was where her mother had healed her bruises and dried her stubborn tears, assuring Ginny that her brothers still loved her, despite the fact that they had gone to Hogwarts and left her behind. It was where she and Hermione had giggled for hours on end, scheming about how to provoke her git of a brother into noticing his bushy-haired friend.

This couch, tucked away into a discreet corner of the porch, had once provided a sense of normalcy for Ginny. She expected to see this lump of green, gold, and maroon stripes out of the corner of her eye every time she toed off her wellies and trudged into the crooked house. Her subconscious welcomed its secondhand sight, just as it welcomed every other secondhand sight in her life.

But coming home to bury herself in this familiar couch after burying her brother? That could never be normal.

Ginny squeezed her eyes tighter and gripped the edge of the couch, willing herself not to cry, to at least keep some normalcy. She longed for it. Normalcy, that is. This past year had been nothing but abnormal _crap_, from stealing swords to living with Aunt Muriel. And burying her brother. Ginny clenched the couch with even more vehemence, digging her fingers into the offending material. The familiar fabric was an insult to the abnormality her life now was. Ginny pulled harder at the edge of the couch, clenching her jaw, willing the couch to break, just as her normal had.

She longed for normalcy, but couldn't quite let herself break away from the abnormal either. Rejecting the abnormal and creating a new normal meant accepting the fact that Fred was gone.

And she couldn't accept that yet.

Ginny felt the couch dip slightly next to her and glanced over. Harry had propped his feet up on the table next to hers, and was loosening his tie with a grimace. A smirk formed on her lips for a split second, but its appearance was fleeting. Shocked at her ability to feel humor, Ginngy molded her expression into something more neutral and turned away from him, staring at her feet.

Grinning is normal. She couldn't be normal just yet. She just couldn't.

Harry nudged her feet with his own and she couldn't help but look at him again. Ginny locked eyes with him, though she desperately tried not to. Locking eyes with the boy she had loved her entire life would make her feel entirely too much for him, and that would be far too normal for this frumpy old couch.

_His eyes. They're green._

Harry smiled and took her hand, and much to Ginny's discontenting relief, looked away. Ginny returned her gaze to her feet and frowned, a small wrinkle appearing in her brow. Harry was interrupting her resolve to remain in the abnormal, to keep things the way they were. Furthermore, their interwoven fingers resting on the threadbare couch distracted her to no end. Not because she longed for his touch, and not because it provided her a physical comfort.

Because his simple touch made her realize that Harry had created a new normal, a normal she might be willing to surrender to.

Ginny wouldn't forget Fred. Or the old normal.

She sank deeper into the old striped couch and rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and savoring this normalcy.


End file.
